


Quid Pro Quo

by MyDarkSideWearsPink



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, Modern Marauders (Harry Potter), One Shot, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-20 05:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22076578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyDarkSideWearsPink/pseuds/MyDarkSideWearsPink
Summary: In which Lily’s roommate is a bully, and James plays the hero.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69





	Quid Pro Quo

**Author's Note:**

> Lily is a single mum, James is an idiot, Harry is a little shit, Sirius is amused.
> 
> Trigger warning : mention of abusive relationships

It started out quite innocently enough, some four months ago, the day he and Sirius moved out of his parents’ -well, their parents’- mansion and in this nice two-bedrooms flat in London suburbs.

Remus and Peter had been around all morning, helping them unpack and settle in. The four of them had opened and quickly finished the customary bottle of champagne (really, Sirius tended to have a bottle ready for any stupid little occasion) and Remus was now trying to make the TV work, so James joined his dumbass of a best mate on the small balcony of their new living room, only to find him flirtatiously chatting with some red-haired girl leaning on the barriers of the nearest balcony.

“Aaaand let me introduce you my boyfriend, James”, said the dumbass. The girl laughed, reaching out her hand across the gap between their balconies for him to shake. James didn't fail to notice how pretty she looked.

“Nice to meet you, James.” He took the offered fingers in his owns and blushed. Why the hell was he blushing now?

“The pleasure is mine. But I'm not the boyfriend, fortunately.” A groan was heard from the living room where Remus had obviously been listening to the conversation, and one of Sirius' discarded shoes flew right onto its owner’s chest.

“Ouch” cried the victim, coming back inside shouting something about Remus being an idiot and lucky he had a good aim, for those were expensive shoes.

“That would be the boyfriend.” James turned back to the woman, a hand ruffling his dark hair, but she was not paying attention to their shenanigans anymore. Her freckled nose was scrunched up and turned towards the inside of her own flat, listening to something James could not hear. What a cute nose, he thought.

“I’m coming, baby, just talking to the new neighbours!” She said, and James’ heart broke a little at that. Of course a woman so gorgeous would have a significant one. “Sorry,” she chuckled apologetically. “Demanding roommate. I should go back. See you around !”

She disappeared at that, leaving a faint smell of something sweet and flowery behind her, and James knew then, after a forty-seconds-long acquaintance and two words exchanged, that he was positively smitten.

From this moment on, James began to behave very much like an idiot. The first of many idiotic actions happened the very same day, as he decided to look for her name on her mailbox down the hall when he realised he didn’t know it – because the easier, less-stalkish solution of asking his roommate would surely expose him to endless mockery, and there was only so much James was ready to suffer for a pretty girl. So, he searched for the name himself. Lily Evans. God, even her name was pretty. However, his little daydreaming about how Lily Potter would sound even better was cut short as he noticed the name besides Lily's, the actual proof that some other man had the privilege to share her mailbox - and her last name, apparently. Not a boyfriend, so, but a husband. Whoever this Harry Evans was, James hated him with every cell in his body.

After a few days, though, James started to realise that something was off with that husband of hers.

Lily Evans, he had noticed, loved reading on her balcony, and so James had formed a new habit of spending the hour after work and before dinner doing just that on his own balcony. It was an easy pretext to spend time with his lovely neighbour, and he gladly took it, even though Sirius gave him hell for it and the shadow of the unknown husband was always lurking around. After a few weeks of awkward "Hello" and silent sittings reading side by side (with still the balcony barrier between them, mind you), the books were completely discarded, and they started talking. Really talking. James discovered that Lily was not only pretty, but extremely funny, and bright, and hard-working.

These little encounters on the balconies were the highlights of James' day, but mostly it gave him cause to concern.

It became quite obvious to him, despite Lily's easy smiles, that she was exhausted. She rose early in the morning to work, came home late in the evening. She had to, she said, because she had a meagre salary as a waitress and she wanted Harry to have the best. It also soon became obvious that said Harry never worked, apparently relying solely on Lily to pay the bills. James never actually met he guy, even though he was always home when Lily was talking to him, which he found incredibly rude. James was always aware of his presence, though, for the TV was turned on during Lily's reading sessions; she hated TV, she said with an apologetic smile one day when it was particularly loud, but it was the only way she could have the daily fifteen minutes of peace she desperately needed. Relative peace, at last, for their chats were frequently interrupted by the man requiring something from Lily - James' never actually heard the sound of his voice, being too far from their door, but Lily seemed to have a sixth sense as to when Harry would need her. She'd always say her goodbyes before James, because she always had things to do ; dinner, errands, cleaning. No, James had never actually met the despicable Harry Evans, but the picture he painted in his mind was a terrible one; a lazy, dependent grown-up man who was happy letting his wife do all the work.

The truth, it seemed, was way worst.

The wall between their flats was thin, and James could hear every argument. It wasn't thin enough that he could understand the words or even separate the voices, but thin enough that he was painfully aware of every scream and slammed door. He was even more painfully aware of the way Lily would retreat and cry on the balcony after each fight, when the flat went quiet again. "I'm fine" she'd say, because James never failed to ask, "I'm just a bit tired". Or "Harry is just being a little difficult is all". She'd never say more to him, because she'd send him away then, with something along the lines of "Don't worry about it, I can take care of myself" or "Go, I don't want Harry to know I'm crying", and he'd leave then, because she obviously didn't want him here, and he was only her neighbour after all.

But still, James Potter swore he hated Harry Evans more than he has ever hated anyone – because someone lucky enough to be loved by the amazing, gorgeous, brilliant Lily Evans but stupid enough to make her cry surely didn't deserve her.

And she did love her husband, he knew, because she said the name Harry with something akin to religious devotion, and she never complained about her life. And seeing this train wreck unfold before his eyes and not being able to do anything to prevent it did break James' heart a little, because he was fairly sure, after months of trivial chats on the balconies and smiles in the corridors and flirtations while in the line of the bakery down the street (because yes, husband or not, she did flirt with him, often and shamelessly), that he was desperately in love with his married neighbour and determined to not do anything about it.

This resolve broke one evening, when she appeared on the balcony with a bruise on her chin and laughed it off when he asked about it, saying “It’s nothing, Harry plays a little rough sometimes.”

James went mad.

“Okay, enough.” He interrupted her, cheeks growing red with fury, fists so clenched it hurt. "Cut the shit. Look, I know it’s none of my business, and I know you think you can take care of yourself and I’m sure you do, but this is bad. This is all very wrong, and I can’t just stay here and say nothing. Harry is bad for you. He’s terrible, and I’m not saying that because of my big fucking embarrassing crush on you, but you should dump the fucker. Now.”

Lily looked like her eyes were ready to pop out of her skull. “Well, I can’t really do that ...”

“No, you can, and you should.” James was back at giving a passionate speech, and he didn’t let Lily interrupt him this time. “You should dump him. You deserve so much better. You deserve someone who’d be willing to give you the world, because, hell, Lily, you deserve the world! You’re- you’re amazing, and this Harry is a lazy piece of shit who can't work and he makes you miserable-“

“He doesn’t!” If she was still a bit confused, she looked more furious now. “What the fuck, James? How dare you speak about my baby like that? Of course he’s difficult, you have no idea what we’ve been through …”

“There’s no excuse for abusing a woman!” They were screaming at each other now, and in his excitation James didn’t miss out how ridiculous the whole situation was. He was expecting said husband to come out and beat the crap out of him any second now, and knew he only had little time left to make his case. “He made you cry just yesterday!”

“I was not crying because of Harry, you stupid toerag ! He’s the only thing that makes me happy!”

“Is that so? Even when he, how did you say? ’Plays a little rough’ ? What kind of husband is that?”

He paused to look at her then, out of breath. Her anger seemed to deflate in a second and she didn’t say anything, merely stared at him, clearly taken aback. He took that as a good sign and carried on, calmer than before. “Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t stand to see you like this. You should dump him. And if you’re scared, I’ll help you. Gladly. Me and Sirius. If you need some place to stay …”

He stopped. She was … smiling? No, not smiling. Soon she was cackling like a madwoman. “Wait, are you telling me you’ve never met Harry?” He must have been looking like a proper idiot, because one glance at him sent her back to her hilarity. ”You thought … Oh god, Potter.” She disappeared inside her flat, and James was pretty sure he will never see her again; but she was back before he had time to process what just happened. And she was not alone. Tugging at her hand, visibly annoyed at having to leave the TV screen for a minute, was a boy. A very tiny little boy, wearing Lion King pajamas and round glasses perched atop a slightly freckled nose.

“James, this is Harry. my son.” said Lily, tenderly ruffling the boy’s messy curls.

“Harry.” He would have smashed his own head against the wall, but there was a kid present. Her kid. “Your son. Of course.”

"Harry, say hi.” Harry didn’t say hi, but he looked at James defiantly with big green eyes very much alike the ones James has come to know and cherish those past few months.

“Hm, hello Harry. I’m James.” He felt like a complete idiot and probably looked the part because the child lost all interest in him and ran back inside without a word, a fond gaze from his mother following him.

“So. That’s my baby. He can’t work, obviously, because he’s three. He’s quite good at school, though. He is difficult, but mostly because his father left him without a word a few months ago and it’s been hard on him. And well, yes, maybe he plays rough. He’s a good kid, but turbulent. And I guess I do cry sometimes, because, you know ... money is tight, and the single mom life wasn’t one I ever planned for myself. You know, if it wasn’t for our daily conversations on the balconies, most days I wouldn’t even speak to another adult. My friends are far away, my parents are dead, my sister kind of cut me out for having a baby at eighteen, and dating, well… Who would want to date someone with a child?” She looked at him then, almost shy, and James had a sense there was some underlying message here he was too numb to get. She was pouring her heart out to him like never before, and he still hadn’t said anything. Idiot.

“I’m sorry. The things I’ve said about your son – I don’t know how you could forgive me. That was so, so stupid, I thought …”

“I think I know what you thought” Lily chuckled, and it was like the magical sound suddenly lifted all the awkwardness between them.

“I was …”

“Terribly mistaken, yes, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless. Very brave of you. Knightly, even.”

“Very stupid of me, rather.”

“One doesn’t exclude the other.” They laughed, easily falling back into their usual flirtations. “So …” She bit her lower lip in embarrassment, and he chastised himself for the sudden urge to reach out and do it himself. Stupid idiot in love. “I guess this new knowledge of me being a mum put this whole “fucking embarrassing crush on me” in a new light ?” She added, with what he thought was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

“W-what ?” He stuttered, before realising the implication behind her words. His heart went racing in his ribcage. “No.” He breathed. Man up, Potter. “No. Not at all. The abusing husband was a bit much, but the cute but turbulent three years old … I can work with that.”

She smiled then, more brightly than ever before, just for him - and the wild cavalcade in his chest suddenly calmed down at the sight. “Yes. I can definitely work with that.”

Harry was, indeed, a bit turbulent, James soon came to realise. He did not take well on not being the only man in his mum’s life anymore, and was very obvious about it. The boy had no respect for James at all, pulling pranks on him that never failed to make Sirius cackle like a beast, whispering threats in his ear when Lily required he hugged James goodbye, and never allowing him to forget when he’d do something stupid like trip on abandoned toys (James was also pretty sure those toys had been abandoned on purpose where he was most likely to trip on them, but he never said anything about it). Harry seemed to rejoice in James’ misery – he laughed like a madchild that time he saw him and Sirius sobbing in each other’s arms the day James moved in with the Evans. Truth be told, this wasn’t James’ most glorious moment, and he recalled Remus and Lily both staring blankly at them in the corridor between their flats, calling them idiots and “for fuck’s sake James stop crying, you’re moving _right next door_ ”, while Harry was rolling on the floor, so amused with this poor show of manliness.

After a few months, though, the child seemed to understand that James was determined to stand by his mother no matter the obstacles Harry would send his way. He started to let his guard down, and though he still took great pleasure in reminding everyone he’d rather have Sirius as a step-dad (to the fucker’s obvious delight), it became less sincere and more of a joke every time. Things definitely get better when he and James found out they shared a deep interest in football. By the next semester, they had teamed up to convince Lily to sign up Harry in the neighbourhood kids club, and James was present at every match, proud as a peacock, shouting “That’s my boy !” twice as loud as any other parent anytime Harry would do anything at all. However, it was only when little Grace started speaking and calling James “Dad” that seven-years-old Harry surrendered and decided to imitate his half-sister. The first time he did so, James ugly-cried for fourteen minutes straight, not minding the three pairs of green eyes giving him the infamous Evans-judging-you stare; and even as Lily said he was a ”bloody sensitive mess, Potter” and Harry approved with a mocking ”You really need to get a grip on yourself, Dad”, James didn’t mind, recalling with a fond smile and tears rolling down his cheeks the day he had sworn to hate Harry Evans.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not an English speaker and have no beta, so I'm aware this must be full of typos or bad grammar, I'm so sorry ! Also I'm new at fanfiction, so just let me know if you liked it or if I should just stop writing forever.


End file.
